


Pragma

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Erections, Adorable, Anal Sex, Angst, Asexual Character, Awkward Boners, Bisexual Male Character, Confessions, Coping, Cuddling & Snuggling, Desire, Fluff, Honesty, Kissing, M/M, Making Love, Making Out, Masturbation, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Negotiation, Romance, Sex-Repulsed Character, Switching, Urination, hypersexual character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-22 09:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13760805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: "Sex is a part of a relationship even if you're not having it. When one of you wants it, then it's suddenly a word that's involved, like it or not."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I did so much research on this. I spoke with people all over the ace/demi spectrum, all the way from sex-repulsed to not and I picked up a healthy list of items I was to ensure I never once violated in here. I learned things along the way, I found out people's opinions, and about their lives. I'll be honest, I'm hypersexual. Nearly every tenth thought I have in a day is about sex in some manner. I'm constantly in a state of arousal and it's rarely sated no matter what actions are taken. I am quite literally the other end of the spectrum from what I'm portraying Jon as here. I've also done my best to ensure I've represented him accurately and with respect.  
> I'm a person who loves inclusion. I love being the one to write something that's never been fully hashed out or is rarely done. I push myself to understand others better every single day of my life and this is no exception. I do research and I take it completely seriously, as if I were writing a multi-million dollar novel rather than a fanfic. To me, the things I lay out in words here could mean the world to someone. I could show them it's okay to be who they are. That's always my aim, to be that person that gave someone something they needed to see. To bridge that gap with others to show them what I learned along the way.  
> I guess what I want to say is I've done my best here. I've written the plot out six times and rewritten chunks of this in ways I never have before. I wrote and threw away an entire chapter. I threw out the plot for 7 other chapters. I'm still nervous as hell. I've bounced it off three people and they've all told me I did good with it. I'm still terrified I've not done well enough.  
> So I ask you this when you read it. Know that I truly did do my very best.
> 
> Many thanks to the tons of people I threw all my questions at and everyone who helped me through this.
> 
> Beta: kate1zena
> 
> Past TimKon and Past TimSteph

Consciousness came slowly for Damian, sort of like how he figured pulling himself from a muddy pit would feel. Usually, he was quick to wake, generally set to a hair trigger when it came to things disturbing his sleep, so it was a bit out of the ordinary to feel like he was having to force himself into waking. 

Blinking blearily at the projected numbers of his clock on the far wall, he took note it was nearly an hour before he was supposed to be awake. The lack of desire to actually wake up made sense given the interrupted sleep cycle and he took in a deeper breath and quietly hummed it back out as he took catalogue of his body's reason for waking him up. He shifted to crack his back from the awkward angle he'd been sleeping in and became abruptly aware of just how hard he was. 

Pleasure slid up his spine as he hardened even further, the friction of his sleep pants against his erection providing something he hadn't found in a while. His hips shifted and he stilled instantly, breath stuck in his throat as he realized he was definitely rubbing against something other than his pants. He became fully alert instantly, a gasp lodged in his throat as alarm worked its way through his body. Shoving himself upright he pleaded with every god he was familiar with that Jon was still asleep. Instead, his boyfriend was fully awake and rigid as could be, gripping his pillow perhaps a little too tightly in one hand, the other clutching the sheets. 

Embarrassment shoved its way through Damian's entire being as he pushed his way out of the tangled covers and slid out of the bed. He stumbled his way to the bathroom, his body still protesting him being awake at such an hour. Closing the door behind him, he moved to the far wall and leaned against it, pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes with a grimace. It'd been months since he'd done this and he truly thought he had it all under control.

Clearly, he didn't.

Moving to the sink, he turned on the cold water and washed his hands before scrubbing the sleep out of the corners of his eyes and washing his lips and mouth, getting the taste of sleep out. He took his allergy pill and shifted back from the counter to take stock of how he was doing in the calming down department. His pants were still tented but not nearly as badly as they had been. Sighing, he made his way to the toilet and slid the elastic of his pants down until he was free to the air and then pushed his cock down to aim it at the toilet. A few false starts and a grunt of annoyance later and he was finally urinating, his erection subsiding in favor of emptying his bladder. 

He'd been doing so well making sure he never put himself – or Jon – in a situation that could result in discomfort. Once, months ago, he'd woken up on the verge of orgasm and that had been something akin to a disaster that he didn't want to repeat; the disaster being mostly on his end, really. He'd handled it poorly, had panicked when he should have just removed himself from the situation, had apologized in agonizing detail until Jon had begged him to stop and just breathe. This time... he wasn't going to mess up like that. Running a hand through his hair, he flushed and moved to the sink, once again washing his hands and straightening his pants and t-shirt before leaving the bathroom. 

He half expected Jon to be gone from the room, perhaps puttering around in the kitchen and making enough noise to distract himself from whatever Damian needed to do in the bathroom. Instead, he was sitting placidly on the edge of the bed, his eyes tracking Damian as he moved across the room to his dresser to start pulling out clothing for the day ahead. 

Jon let him get his clothing out before he spoke and then, it was only the quiet sound of his name and a tap on the bed beside Jon that got his attention so he would come and sit. His mind swirled over the apologies that wanted out, but he kept them firmly behind his lips, recalling how Jon had patiently told him he didn't need to apologize for bodily functions, especially ones he held no control over. Mostly, Damian just wanted to apologize for any discomfort he'd caused – unintentional or not.

Settling on the edge of the bed, he allowed his thigh to press against Jon's own, a comfort they'd found middle-ground in over the years. Jon's hand came to rest on his knee, very carefully laid there and Damian shifted to rest his shoulder against Jon's.

"You okay?"

Damian took in a deep breath and slid his tongue along his teeth before answering. "Mostly. Still feel like I want to apologize though I know I don't have to."

"Would it make it easier for you if you did?" Jon's fingers squeezed Damian's knee lightly, shifting Damian's focus to his fingers, across his perfectly trimmed nails, and along the barely visible vein beneath his skin.

"Not really. It's not that it's difficult, just that I dislike knowing –" he hesitated, did he tell Jon that he felt like he'd failed in some respect? Like he hadn't done enough with himself to make his body remain calm overnight? Or did he just imply that and hedge around it? "– that my body is going to do as it wants without my permission at times still." He shrugged, as if it weren't something he'd spent hours studying how to do.

He knew how to slow his heart rate to fake death, knew how to mask who he was even to someone with super hearing, hell, he knew how to _withstand_ intricate torture and _never_ reveal a damn thing. He could use his mind to break into nearly anything this world had to offer and he could take down criminals better and faster than most of the actual League despite still not having received an invitation to join. And yet... his own sexuality and his body's responses to it eluded him. He could no more control his erections than he could dictate the direction of the wind nor could he derail his thoughts on certain subjects than he could re-route another's, and that annoyed him to no end. 

He was well aware he didn't _have_ to, they'd had dozens of conversations along the same lines as the one they were about to have again, but it didn't change that he felt like he _should_ have some modicum of control over it. After all, his own father claimed to have such control and a man that Damian now bested at nearly every turn would not outdo him in this respect either. He'd learn, even if it took the rest of his life to do it.

"You're blaming yourself again. You write it all over your body language when you do." Jon sounded concerned and Damian pressed closer to his side for both of their reassurances. 

"Not blaming. Just irritated that my father bests me in this sort of control and will not share his techniques with me."

"Maybe he's lying." Jon shrugged and Damian almost laughed, huffed out an amused sort of breath instead. 

"The only indication of arousal I have ever seen within him has been his pupils being dilated once when nothing else should have been causing it."

"And surely it has occurred to you that he's behind closed doors at times? Or that he takes lovers on a fairly regular basis, even now?"

Damian sighed, tipping his head back. "He would not lie about his control to me."

"There's no lie in it if he's managing it like that." Jon's fingers tightened again. "Biologically, I can only make the leap that by doing such acts the involuntary ones would... cease."

Damian took a deep breath, forcing his mind to center before he let his irritation take over the conversation. Slowly releasing it, he just shook his head. 

"He is not the actual topic of this conversation. What is it you want to say?"

"I know we've been over this before and I feel like we have this conversation at least every other month, but there's two things I really need you to hear me on. First – and most important – cut the blame off at the knees. I'm not traumatized and I'm not crying in the corner. I know once upon a time I freaked out and I know that freaked _you_ out, but we're way past that. I don't think I can be held responsible for something I did five years ago and I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be either."

Damian recalled the whole situation better than he wanted to, had dwelled on it for years as a way of making up for his own part in the disaster. He remembered very intentionally trying to get into Jon's pants, remembered being so riled up he was absolutely desperate, and he remembered the excitement he'd felt at the prospect of finally getting to share such intimacy with someone. Teenage hormones combined with the part that still hadn't gone away – a longing ache to share this beautiful piece of his love with the person dearest to him – left him feeling like there was an aching hole in his gut. 

That hole was still there, still wide open and while healed around the edges, still something he could feel when he allowed himself to examine the area. For him, the moment had been about finally getting to kiss Jon, about how he'd felt like love was exploding in his chest and radiating throughout his entire body. It had been about the desire to find some small way to feel like he was as close to Jon as he'd ever be able to be, to feel like he'd shown him the depths of his heart and soul. 

The unfortunate part was that teenage hormones hadn't left room for there to be any explanation of such things. Instead, he'd been aching and desperate and clumsy, fumbled his way through getting Jon on the bed and starting to barrel down a path that rather abruptly ended in a cement wall, which he'd gracelessly crashed headfirst into.

They'd both learned something about the other that day and it had been in the least desirable way possible. Jon had learned that Damian attached love and sex at the hip and Damian had learned that sex freaked Jon out like no tomorrow. For Jon, the two things were completely separate from one another. Sex was something that – at the time – he hadn't wanted to so much as even talk about, much less enact. Love was affection that Jon showed in his own unique and amazing ways. Whereas Damian had started out wanting to show his love through physical means, Jon showed it with written letters detailing Damian's best traits and how they intertwined with Jon's own. He'd occasionally show up back then with little trinkets from some far corner of the globe, something that on the surface seemed mundane but once held in Damian's hands meant everything. Nothing was ever just randomly picked and that was achingly obvious.

The first gift had been an elegantly etched blotter for Damian's art desk. On the surface, it was useful and covered up the ink stain from a few weeks earlier when Titus has bumped his desk. Beneath that, it was clearly something he'd had made distinctly for Damian. The etchings along the sides were all significant to pieces of their lives since they'd met: the planet alignments from the day he'd allowed Jon to start coming with him at night, a moon reflected over water and a forest scene that were clearly supposed to be from the night they'd mutually decided to start dating one another, his and Jon's pets, and an asteroid that they'd managed to route away from the Earth and had never told anyone else about. In short, it had been the most incredibly thoughtful gift he'd gotten to that point in his life. 

Everything after that had been much the same. Misplaced games replaced months later when he'd stopped thinking about them, books that were so carefully picked to be exactly in his preferred reading range, a single tulip given on a very specific day. Hell, even the coin he kept in his wallet was significant in a way that had taken him months to pick up on. Jon loved through his thoughtfulness, through the purity of his decisions, and Damian wouldn’t have traded anything in the world for how that made him feel. He kept every note, clung to every word until he had them memorized. He'd built a chest to keep them in and kept it tucked away in his desk – the materials disaster proof. He knew he'd never let go of them, even if they didn't make it in the end, he'd never ever let that happiness go. 

"Damian?"

He sucked in a breath and focused on Jon again, offering him an apologetic smile. "In my own head again."

Jon hummed softly and shifted to rest his head on Damian's shoulder, his fingers playing with a string on Damian's pants. "I just really want you to think about what I offered. Not just superficially and I don't want you to discard it again because of what society would think. It's not their business and it never will be." He shifted and rubbed his cheek on Damian's shoulder. "I think it'd be good for both of us and I sincerely mean that."

Damian could feel the crease between his brows, knew his pain was showing openly on his face just as much as it was tugging at his chest. "I know you're offering because you think I need that part of things in my life and I sincerely appreciate the thought of it and that you'd be willing to let me go fulfill that somewhere else. But, I feel like it would be this huge betrayal to you and I just don't see how I'd ever get over that. I'd feel guilty and vile. There's no way that wouldn't pull us apart."

Jon moved quick enough Damian didn't actually notice until his cheek was being cupped so he'd turn to look at Jon and he found him kneeling next to him instead of seated beside him. "I'm not asking you to sleep with the first person willing to have you, that's not at all what I've ever been trying to imply. Just... seriously listen this time. Please?"

Damian nodded, swallowed against the fear that knotted in his throat, and desperately tried to get the crease between his brows to go away.

"You love with all of you and you love in so many different ways. It's taken me years to see all of them and pull them apart to see what's inside. A lot of it was getting you to open up to me about some of them. Like with Grayson, you love him possibly more than you love anyone else on this planet. You love him with the heart of a child: for saving your life, though he doesn't know it and probably never will. You look at him and your heart actually – honestly – skips a beat. I asked Dad about it once and he said that usually doesn't _really_ happen, it just feels like it does to people, but your heart loves him so much it pauses for him. You adore him and look up to him. I'm fairly certain he could never do any wrong in your eyes and if he did, it might kill you." He paused and took in in a breath. "This is where I need you to hear me out and not get angry and go stomping off, okay?"

Damian shifted uncomfortably, getting a good idea of where this was going. He could feel the tingle of awareness in his fingertips and along his shoulders, the prickle that told him to avoid and leave immediately. Instead, he pursed his lips and stayed right where he was.

"Your body still responds to him. I'm reasonably sure your mind wants nothing to do with him in a sexual way. You don't look at him and then fantasize about him, but your body itself sees him and feels your love and responds in kind."

Damian's mouth opened and Jon held up his hand to silence him. "I'm not implying you should go sleep with him. That'd be the worst decision of the century. I'm merely using him as an example of what I mean. You love with all of you. Your body loves just as much as your heart and mind do. Sex is an integral piece of the puzzle for you and that's beautiful." Jon let his hand drop and instead tilted his head and smiled at Damian. "I wish I could be comfortable with experiencing that with you, but I don't believe I ever will be. I've gotten through enough of it now that I can talk about things but there's still this queasy feeling in my gut and absolutely zero response from my body in the ways one would need for such things."

"Jon, I –"

Again Jon's hand cut him off, held in the air as he shook his head. "Not done and we both know you'll guide me down some tangent so we don't have to talk about this. Just once I want it all out in the open." Damian nodded and Jon let his hand drop again. "There've been other people over the years that you've responded to on a completely different level of love. I think you mostly chalk it up to close friendship but there's more to it than that. Colin comes to mind. You haven't even seen him in years and just by saying his name your pulse picked up. I want you to pay attention to everything in your body when I say these names for you. Catalogue it and then nod when you're done, but don't speak to me, okay?"

Damian nodded and Jon settled back on his heels. "Colin."

Closing his eyes, Damian felt the tingle of awareness, the happy feeling buried deep inside him. His mind was flooded with special moments: the pair of them working together for the first time; the night he'd spent at Colin's apartment when he'd finally gotten a job and left the orphanage and how happy he'd been for his friend; the way he'd felt absolutely heartbroken when Colin's actual career had moved him across the entire United States, and the sadness he felt at them having drifted apart. His body gave him a variety of reactions. He felt the uptick in his pulse, the hitch in his breath, the low level burn in his thighs, even the ache somewhere back behind his pelvis, and then the dull cognizance that arousal loomed just around the corner. He frowned and nodded to let Jon know he could move on.

"Raven."

His breath huffed and he felt the clench in his gut that had everything to do with something he'd shoved to the side years ago. She'd been interested in him, but he'd turned it down cold. It hadn't been a matter of not being interested but more one of consciousness about team interaction. He'd seen the files on how Dick's liaisons had ripped things apart in the past and he held no intention of following the same path. Despite the fact that he'd held genuine sexual interest in her, he also hadn't felt much of anything else for her beyond respect. He didn't love her and he didn't truly want to be with her. Turning her down had been easy, perhaps too much so. 

The thought twisted in his mind and he hung on it, examining it if only because he knew this was the point of the exercise. He'd had a chance to couple with someone, to find sexual pleasure for what would have been the first time in his life, and he hadn't hesitated in turning the offer down. Without emotion tied in, he hadn't truly wanted it. Sure, the idea had given him something to think about in his private moments, but it hadn't been more than that. 

He nodded for Jon to go on.

"Tim."

That struck an agonized cord inside him, to the point he actively stiffened. His muscles went taut and he had to resist curling his fists. Here, he'd fucked up big time. Repeatedly. Tim was one of the kindest souls he'd ever met. Driven and while impatient, also extremely thorough. His impatience was driven only by how much faster his mind was at figuring things out than anyone else's was. He could solve a case from a chair and a computer and execute the takedown faster than anyone Damian had ever seen. Sure, when it came to beating information out of someone, that wasn't Tim's strong suit, but give the guy anything remotely tech related and he'd break it open and have it pouring its darkest secrets in minutes. 

To say their relationship at the start was rocky would be like saying a hostile alien invasion _might_ be a problem. Of course, over the years, he'd done his best to prove he'd changed from the kid that had tried to kill the first true threat he saw. He'd apologized once, a few years ago over one too many drinks at a charity event, had stopped Tim in the hallway and poured his heart out to him about how he really felt, how twisted up his mind had been when he'd come to live with Bruce. Tim had taken it in stride, hugged Damian for a good two minutes, and then insisted he go home for the evening, which given how the morning had resulted – with Damian's head hanging over the toilet – had probably been a good idea. 

Since then, they'd been working together regularly. Neither of them ever talked about that evening, but it had opened up a new world for them. As it turned out, the talk had done great things for solving cases. Between them, nearly nothing escaped their notice and things got done faster than ever before. As a result, they actually had free time once in a while and everyone seemed less stressed out than before. 

Damian took in a breath and focused on his bodily responses to Tim instead of just key moments. His hands were warm and the ever-present coil of lust deep in his core wound itself tighter. His lips were parted and his breath was a bit rushed. His pulse wasn't quick but he knew if he opened his eyes his pupils would be blown out, much the same way he'd seen Bruce's the one time he'd ever seen a sexual response from his father in regards to a situation. 

He swallowed and debated if this was new or something that was always there. His mind traveled over the past few years of their interactions, over how they'd grown closer and Damian and Tim both would stand closer to one another than was probably entirely necessary. There was no jerking back and apologizing if they accidentally brushed past one another, usually just a hand on someone's arm or hip to move them gently out of the way. He was entirely comfortable just existing in Tim's space and it seemed Tim was just the same. 

Something bright filled his heart and he slid his tongue along his teeth as he considered it. He loved Tim in his own way. He loved his mind and how he thought about things. He could just exist around him now and nothing that happened was a big deal. There was affection in how they dealt with one another and it seemed so achingly similar that Damian wondered if Tim's existence on the spectrum of love and lust didn't lie exactly where his did. His thighs tingled and he felt the start of excitement at that thought and let it burn for a moment, needing to experience the idea of it just to know the truth. The instant his cock gave a throb, he tamped down on it and pressed his lips together, wetting the inside and then releasing them, making a throaty little amused sound. 

Jon let out a quiet hum and reached to run his hand over Damian's arm vigorously a few times. He opened his eyes and studied Jon, seeing the light in his eyes and the truth of how much he had already known of what Damian had just accomplished figuring out. 

"You love with your body just as much as with your mind. I'm almost willing to lay money on the fact that you've never actually thought of Tim sexually, am I right?" Damian nodded and Jon smiled. "But now you will."

Damian opened his mouth, a protest forming on his tongue, but Jon instead framed his face and leaned in and pecked his lips quickly before retreating back to where he'd been sitting.

"Look, it doesn't bother me; never has in that regard. What I've been trying to tell you for _years_ is that if you even think you might want that part of your love to develop with someone, please _please_ go find out. I trust you, Damian. Hell, I trust you every day with my life. I trust _you_ to help me and I trust _you_ to take me down if I ever end up in a situation like my dad has. I know there's Kryptonite in your belt pouch and it has never bothered me, do you know why?"

"Because you trust me."

"Exactly. Think about it from my end. I love you like no one else, in a way I've never experienced with anyone else, and the thought of losing you shatters me. I close my eyes and I see us in the future, our love, our happiness, a contentment I already find by just existing with you. I want you to feel every ounce of love and happiness you can possibly have and the blunt truth of it is, I know there's one piece you'll never ever have with me and I know – for you – it's a big one. You try every single day to find new ways to change that – don't think I haven't noticed – but Damian... we're all built certain ways. You were built to love with all of you, your body included. I was built to love with my heart and my mind. Neither is wrong, it's just different. Thing is, I _want_ you to be able to have that last part fulfilled so you can feel the full extent of this amazing peace that it is to love with everything you have."

Damian studied Jon's face and his body, everything his posture and movements were telling about him. Jon had always telegraphed how he was really feeling in his movements and Damian couldn't turn off the part of him that studied everyone out of habit. What he saw was honesty. Nothing in him told of lies or half-truths, there were no sidelong glances away like when he'd played poker with him and Jon had been cheating by looking at his cards. His hands were still and his fingers weren't shaking or restless. He was relaxed rather than rigid and upset. Jon was, by all rights, perfectly okay with what he was suggesting and it was that alone that encouraged Damian to have him spell it out for him one more time. 

"Tell me again what exactly you were proposing."

Jon's face lit up and Damian almost ached from the sincerity in it, from the prospective happiness he saw there. Jon truly did want to see Damian as happy as humanly possible and he honestly thought this was how it could be done.

"I would like you to examine how you feel about everyone close to you like you just were. Then, figure out a few people you react to like you do with Tim – or you know, another way if that's more comfortable for you – and then see if any of them are willing to engage in an open relationship with you."

"You make this sound so clinical."

"Tell me it doesn't appeal better to you to hear it like that." Jon's smirk told him he'd done it on purpose.

Rolling his eyes, Damian shifted to lean back on his hands and stare at the clock's projection on the other side of the room. "Alright... and the bounds of this open relationship?"

"I hate the idea of primary and secondary lovers, that sounds like some kind of horrible ranking system just like gathering your friends and someone forcing you to say who you like best. That's messed up and not at all the aim. I think, ideally, it'd be nice to have them at least stay over with us and long term, perhaps live here as well. I'd like to be able to be friends with that person – so they'd need to be comfortable with that – and while I want nothing to do with the sexual end of things, nor to be present while any of it happens, I would like that part of your relationship with them to exist."

Damian blinked at him, slowly coming to the realization that Jon had been thinking about this the entire time since he'd first brought it up. Whereas the initial pitch had been nothing more than a crude allusion to Damian finding someone to sleep with, this was thought out to a degree Damian was surprised at. Jon usually executed ideas, not formulated them, that was generally Damian's domain. Sure, they tweaked accordingly, but in the field they were the epitome of brains and brawn and Damian held no reservations to the fact that that's how they'd fallen into sync comfortably. To see how much it must have meant to him to come up with this well thought out plan... it made Damian want to give it more thought than just discarding it outright. 

"So this presumed third person would be integral. They'd come in knowing sexual activity was limited to me and to be friends with you..." he paused and tipped his head, "What if they fall in love with you as well? Are you okay with that?"

Jon's smile widened and he leaned forward, hands on Damian's leg to steady himself. "I'd love that. Two people to shower my love on sounds like heaven."

Damian nodded, shifted closer to Jon and waited until Jon closed the distance and their lips met ever so briefly. He felt the familiar tingle in his thighs, the tightening of the coil in his stomach and he made his decision. He'd give it the effort to at least see how he really felt about the idea. No gut reactions and no knee jerk responses that removed possibility. 

He knew exactly where he would start.


	2. Chapter 2

Damian spent what amounted to hours thinking about – and slowly cataloguing – every person in his life and how he reacted to them both mentally and physically. It wasn't exactly what he'd expected to find out about himself, but once the pattern showed up it became amazingly clear. He loved in a variety of ways and most all of them included some sort of physical reaction from his body. 

People like Alfred and his father he loved in a familial sort of way. He adored them and cared for them on a level that left warmth in his center and a light that shone in his eyes. His body reacted in no other ways to people that fell into this category and for that he was thankful.

Jon had been right about Grayson. He was the only one Damian could find that he reacted to in exactly the way Jon described. Try as he might to expand his search to find someone else he could put into that category, he just couldn't. Dick was a category unto himself. 

He found people he was _just_ sexually attracted to and held no love for whatsoever. Certain porn stars, the barista at his favorite morning coffee shop, even a guy Damian passed on the street. He had no knowledge beyond appearance for most of these people and it allowed him to realize what lust was versus what his own desire for culminating his affections for someone. 

There were people like Colin and Tim, even Suren to a certain extent that he reacted to on a whole other level. His body gave him all the signs of arousal just thinking of them and actively being around them – something he tested with Tim a few times just for good measure – sped his heart up and brought certain parts of his anatomy into play. His heart went out to them and he found the desire to just wrap himself around them and share everything with them was incredibly strong once he acknowledged it was there. 

The third time he stood just close enough to Tim to allow his hand to brush over his waist as Tim shifted past him in the tight space between server racks, Damian couldn't stop the way his breath hitched. While he usually would have shut it down and scolded himself for reacting to someone who wasn't his boyfriend, he let it take hold within him instead, allowing himself to examine it and let it twist in his gut. 

By the time Tim shifted back past him to get to the power supply he was replacing, Damian was half hard and his pulse was skittering. There was freedom in that somehow – a way for him to understand that this was okay and his reactions were fine, not only with him but with Jon as well. There was only one wild card here: Tim. A debate played itself out in his mind, whispering pros and cons of just opening up to Tim until he finally crouched down to help wrestle the old heap of junk out of the way so they could put in the new – and much lighter – power supply. 

"Jon and I are thinking of pursuing an open relationship." He tipped his head, debating for a second. "Or maybe it's closer to poly? It's... something, anyway."

Tim grunted as they tugged the old power supply out and Damian set to dragging it away as Tim leaned in to hook up the new one. "Oh yeah? New development or something you've been thinking on for a while?"

Damian clicked his tongue, pausing in his maneuvering of the power supply. "Old idea that I'm finally giving far more thought to than I originally did."

"What changed?" Tim's voice was muffled, his head and shoulders hidden away in the depths of the server rack.

"I did." Damian shoved the power supply against the wall beside the racks and came back in, kneeling down just to be close by if Tim needed anything. "I was discounting the idea based on a preconceived notion of what it would emotionally mean for him. I guess I was looking at it like it'd hurt him somehow, but he's the one who brought it up, so I do not think that would be an issue."

"So he wants to see someone else or?"

"No, not at all." Damian paused, sucking on his tongue for a moment and then decided honesty was the best policy if he was truly testing the waters with Tim. "He's asexual and I'm... not." He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. Taking in a deep breath he took the big plunge instead of letting something that truly explained nothing hang in the air between them. "I associate sex with love – with a lot of different kinds of love, actually. Kind of had to take stock of all of that recently and I've come to realize even friendship comes with sexual affection for me. Jon, on the other hand, doesn't experience anything like that at all."

Tim resurfaced from inside the server racks, a cobweb stringing between him and the computers. Damian reached out and brushed it away without a thought. "I've actually taken note of that." He was quiet until Damian motioned for him to go on and Tim shrugged. "Just that he'd leave during certain scenes of a movie. Never made a big deal out of it, but he'd make sure to get up and conveniently go get snacks or use the restroom. Also watched your frustration around the first part of your relationship with one another. For a while I thought maybe it was religious – I mean for some people it is, you know? But he's not really actively into any single faith, so I couldn't reconcile it with that. Came to the conclusion that he's asexual and possibly – at least slightly – sex repulsed." He shrugged. "How far off base am I?"

"Not at all." Damian leaned back on his heels, shoulder pressing against the wall. "Frustration was due to lack of communication and one rather large fuck-up on my part. We've worked that out long ago."

"Then I'd venture to ask you why the sudden change in him wanting you to explore this part of yourself with other people?"

"Not just _any_ other people..." Damian took up studying the way the lights blinked on the servers as they all powered back up. "Someone I love and hold great affection for and someone who would understand that they could be a part of our relationship. Jon wants friendship with them as well."

"And you?" Tim brushed himself off and then began a methodical check of all the systems with both visual and physical checks along the way. 

"And I what?"

"What is it that you'd need from it? Like I get it that Jon wants you to be able to have sex with someone, but that's Jon's side of the world. He wants to give you love in every way; it's understandable. But, what is it that you would be getting out of it beyond physical release?"

Damian pressed his lips together, his tongue working along the inside of his lips until he released them. "There's this whole part of myself I have to keep walled off. Say... I'm feeling particularly affectionate and Jon's done something so beautiful and wonderful for me and I just want to give him everything I have... I _can't_. I can give him as much as possible, but I can never ever give him this huge piece of myself. At first, it was like getting shot into space without oxygen and trying to breathe. I'd wake up next to him every day aching to touch him in ways I couldn't, would have to stop kissing him because my body barged on ahead of where the limits were. I got it under control after hormones started calming down, but sometimes it's still this huge guillotine over my head. I _want_ to share myself completely and it's frustrating that I cannot."

Tim turned toward him and took in a breath like he was about to talk, but Damian shook his head. "Not done." He gathered his thoughts and then plunged onward. "Do not get me wrong here. I've learned to adapt and I would never change a thing about Jon. He's perfect the way he is. I adore him and love him like I've never ever loved another. I make sure I take my time alone when he's not around and frequently enough so there aren't many surprises to deal with. I've learned to shift my ways of showing affection more toward his over the years. I could go on like this for the rest of my life. Now, if I'm being blunt about it – which I think the point of this talk is pretty much that – I'm sexually frustrated as hell. Getting off feels like a chore instead of pleasant sometimes. There's times I don't want to but I know if I don't then I'll wake up next to him with a hard-on and that puts him in an uncomfortable place. He's told me a million times it's fine and he's not upset and that's great and all, but I don't _like_ putting him in that position. So I do what I need to most of the time regardless of wanting to or not."

Damian shifted to lean entirely against the wall, just existing as he spoke. "It's tedious and it's sucked most of the fun out of self-gratification. I know it's my own trappings doing it and is not on him at all. He didn't ask me to do this and if he knew I was then he'd probably suggest I stop until I actually wanted to."

"You think he doesn't know?" Tim sounded incredulous. "You have a boyfriend with super hearing whose brain moves at a rate we can't even comprehend or map on a damn computer. Look me in the face and tell me he doesn't fucking know."

Damian squinted at Tim for a moment and then turned his head away, his cheeks faintly heating up. "Fine... so he probably knows what I'm doing and knows it's pointless to bring it up with me. That's beside the point. I do it because I want to make life easier for us. It's a simple solution to the issue. I get off on the regular and most of the time we don't have any awkward incidents where my body goes off on its own while my mind tells it to calm the fuck down. See... I _want_ to be able to kiss him, to sit next to him and share affection, and not have my damn dick make a big deal out of it. Most of the time I can. Sometimes..." he winced and shook his head. "Let's say about once a month everything I keep trying to train my body into just sort of falls apart on me. I'm not – God I sound like I'm trying to be a robot or something, but I'm not, I swear, I'm just bad at explaining it. I'm torn. I don't want to police how I feel about him and I don't think he wants me to either. I want to desire him, but I just want the physical reaction to leave me alone. It's sort of like that story Dick told us last Christmas about the first time he did public speaking and how he got an erection and stood behind the podium an extra five minutes just blustering because he needed it to go down? Well, like he loved giving the speech but his cock took that as some kind of incentive to behave itself a certain way and then he's stuck awkwardly trying to hide it until it stops bothering him. So that's me on a regular basis. I want to kiss and hug Jon and wake up in bed holding him and just be able to curl up affectionately with him and he's okay with all of those things, but my dick keeps getting in the way. It sees a pleasant situation and goes on high alert and that is annoying as hell."

"You are aware it's a normal reaction, right? Just as normal as Jon's?" Tim settled cross-legged on the floor. "You sound so frustrated with yourself and the truth is, you shouldn't be. You've put all this emphasis on how you understand and are trying to make Jon's life easier and honestly, that's wonderful. I can see everything you're saying is filled to the brim with love for him... but where's your love for yourself? It's difficult, I get that. You saw a situation and you saw an answer and barreled toward it: just get your dick to stop making itself known when having affection with Jon. Great that sounds like a wonderful solution _in theory_."

Tim paused, clearly letting his words sink in before he continued. "In practice, it's putting yourself aside to cater to him completely. That's not how relationships work and it's not how the damn world works either. Jon's trying to rectify that in the most reasonable way he could find. You went for black and white and he went for middle ground. Your brain said 'erections around Jon equal no' and then found the solution 'masturbating until I hate it means my dick doesn't get hard'. Jon looked at it and went 'but I can hear and see his reactions to other kinds of love, so why not draw on that since I'm okay with it'. Does that sound about right?"

Damian stared at Tim, his lips parted and his breath caught in his throat. A few seconds and he finally managed enough breath to speak again. "I... I've been a dumbass then."

"No, you've been being human. You saw you could solve something so you did. It's in your nature – hell, it's in all of our natures just due to the jobs we do. Problem, solution, execution. How many times have you heard that in your life? Just as many as I have I'm sure. So I think what you need to do is see this for the solution it could be and then see if you're truly okay with it. Ask yourself all the necessary questions and either move forward or go back to Jon and sketch up the drawing board together. Stop leaving him out of the solution process. He's got as much a right to it as you do. Sex is a part of a relationship even if you're not having it. When one of you wants it, then it's suddenly a word that's involved, like it or not."

"What questions would you think needed to be answered?"

"A hell of a lot of them. For starters... what opposed you to it in the first place? What caused you to dismiss it outright: was it just societal convention or was it because the thought truly makes you feel something besides positive? Would it feel like cheating to you? How would this this person fit into yours and Jon's world? I don't think that one can be answered as readily as the others because it has a lot to do with who the person would be and less to do with wishes and desires. How would you draw the ground rules out for whomever it is if you do decide to act on it? Would it be someone you already know and feel certain ways about or would it be you dating until you find someone who fits both of you? Is Jon truly just looking for a friend or would he want to find someone he could be in love with, too? Does it matter to him which way it plays out? Does he want to know what happens when he's not around or does he want that to be a mystery – not that it really _can_ be with a Super, but... it's a thought. And once you go for it, how does the third person feel about it? What do they need from the relationships with both you and Jon? Are they okay with all of it and do they treat both you and Jon right? Probably the most important thing isn't a question at all and is rather a statement. This is all to find the fullest extent of happiness for you both – so you need to find someone who understands that, who can find their happiness within that and with whatever you both can add to their life as well. Remember that and judge it and ask all the right questions to the right people... and you'll be fine."

Tim pushed himself upright, dusting off his clothing and then leaning over to start picking up tools.

Damian studied him for a long time before he stood up as well, grasping the second toolbox before Tim could. They straightened and Damian met Tim's eyes, held them for a moment. "You've been in an open relationship, haven't you?"

A small smile curved Tim's lips for an instant before he turned away and started to make his way out from behind the racks. "You just found probably the best resource you could have. Let's say I'm not a single person kind of guy and never have been."

"Steph?" Damian let the name be the question rather than expanding upon it, allowing Tim to answer what he was comfortable with regarding his previous relationship with her.

"We worked around it. I had Conner whenever I was at the tower and her when I was here. Kept touch with both of them at all times, but it just wasn't what I really wanted. I felt torn instead of like I had both people I cared about in my life. You know those old Lifetime movies where some businessman has a girl in Philly and a girl in Boston? Well... that's how I felt and that's not the aim I've ever had for myself or the people I'm with. My happiness would be with two – or more – people I care about that fulfill something different within me and I'd only hope that I could be that for them as well."

"What, in practice, is really the difference between poly and open? I guess... it all feels the same to me in the end."

Tim settled the toolbox he was holding onto the work table and turned to lean against the wood, studying Damian. "Easiest way is this. Poly would be like what I just described. Three or more people sharing one another's lives. It can come in a lot of flavors. X and Y love each other. Y and Z love each other. X and Z are friends. Or it could be X, Y, and Z are all together and all lovers. It could be anything in between. As long as all parties are aware of the others and have interplay between them in some way, it's poly. Open would be like both people are welcome to date others. So X and Y have a main relationship with each other and are going steady. X goes to the club regularly and picks up whomever they're interested in. Y could also find someone they're dating and possibly having sex with and while all the outlying people should know that X and Y are together, X and Y may not even tell one another about their exploits. I mean... that's just an example because that comes in all kinds of flavors, too, but it highlights the gist of it really well I think."

Damian put his toolbox down finally, leaning next to Tim on the table, his body turned toward him so he could study him. "So I think we used the wrong word then... we'd want to have a _poly_ relationship with someone."

Tim smiled as he crossed his arms loosely and bobbed his head. "Seems like it."

Wetting his lips, Damian took half a step closer, just watching Tim's face as he did it, taking in the way it changed, the mostly repressed emotions that barely came to the surface. His own heart thudded in his chest, the slight numbing in his fingertips making him fully aware of how his body was reacting to the proximity. He took in a steadying breath and pushed away from the counter, heading toward the main control console and pulling up a seat as he brought it back to life. "Let's see if Frankenstein's monster lives, shall we?"

Tim huffed out a laugh and Damian heard him rolling the spare chair closer. "Oh please, it's not Frankenstein's monster, it's not cobbled together _that_ bad. I mean it may be like a vampire given how many times we've resurrected it from the dead, but I'll be damned if it isn't the best vampire out there."

Damian snorted, scooting over to give Tim equal access to the console and then leaning on his fist, studying Tim in the reflection of the screens. As awkward as this whole conversation could have been... it just wasn't. Tim's words had brought light to a lot of things Damian needed to figure out – some of them himself and some with Jon – and they'd given him insight into the one person who was, quite honestly, topping his list of possibilities. He studied Tim's profile, his lean musculature, the handsome line of his jaw and the dark smudges that lack of sleep left behind. His eyes caught on the slightly mussed hair from where the cobwebs had clung to him and where he'd gotten a bit of dirt across his forehead. 

Tim was, by all rights, very attractive. Combining that with how Damian had felt toward him for quite a few years now and the fact that Tim was already open to the concept of a poly relationship, it all made perfect sense. 

Damian rolled his chair slightly closer and after a minute let his knee fall against Tim's thigh. Tim didn't move away from the touch, like always, and Damian let it exist with a whole new awareness as to why he'd been doing it this whole time. Tim's hand came to rest on his leg, squeezed slightly and then retreated as he reached up to type something, and Damian sat there, his entire body tingling as he stared at where Tim's hand had been. 

Now that he thought of it, he couldn't un-think it and so he let himself go off-rails with it, let his thoughts barrel into territory he usually kept tightly sealed off. His heart pounded and the coil in his gut wound tighter. His hands ached to reach out and grasp Tim and he wanted to taste him in every way he could imagine. His thoughts careened off the cliff into sincerely dirty and it took him a few seconds to realize he was starting to get a hard-on. Despite his first instinct to get up and hide it under a flimsy excuse, he instead allowed it to happen, let himself get fully excited and then wrenched his mind back to the computer, watching Tim's check of all the systems on the software side of things. 

Using the second keyboard, he set up a diagnostics scan and settled back to let it do its thing, feeling Tim's gaze linger on him for longer than it usually did. His cock twitched under the presumed attention and he let himself feel the ease of just allowing his body its natural reactions. His hips shifted a little and he moved to try to mask it, pulling his leg up under him and sitting back down on it with a sniff. This was comfortable and Damian wondered for a moment if that hadn't been what Jon was aiming for to start with. A way to give Damian a safe space for his reactions to exist in, a way to open up the tightly clamped box that held his sexual desire. 

If nothing else, he felt free to have these reactions again and for that he owed Jon a huge and very sincere amount of gratitude.


	3. Chapter 3

Damian tapped his pen lightly against the pad of paper he was writing their grocery list on. The slightest burst of air rushed against his skin and a plate with an amazing looking sandwich appeared in front of him. Another appeared on the other side of the table a few seconds later as well as a bottle of pop and two glasses with ice. Damian heard the refrigerator door shut about the same time Jon settled into the chair across from him. 

He'd been a bit snide about sandwiches the first time Jon had brought up the fact that he could make a killer one years ago, but the moment he'd sat down and tasted one, he understood exactly what "killer" had meant. Jon made the best sandwiches in existence, of that Damian was certain. Jon's sandwiches were not just sandwiches, but works of art. 

Putting his pen down, he reached to examine his sandwich. Homemade sourdough bread, thinly sliced tomatoes and red onions, a homemade mustard no prepackaged one could ever top, the barest hint of a sweet onion sauce, sprouts, Swiss cheese, and a cooked-to-perfection veggie burger made thin enough it was a sandwich and not a burger. He could smell it had been crisped around the edges in just the right ways, and everything in him swelled with delight as he took the first bite, allowing heaven to wash over him. 

Jon had been incredibly persistent when they'd first gotten together, insisting he learn ways to cook for Damian's dietary preferences. While Jon didn't share them, it was – according to him – an easy enough task to make two batches of whatever it was and just modify Damian's to suit. He supposed super speed helped in that regard.

Polishing off the first half of the sandwich, Damian picked the pen back up and carefully went down the list of sundries and then onward to liquids, then to everything else they needed. Once he arrived at the bottom, Jon chimed in. "Add Parmesan and that tofu sausage you like. I have an idea for dinner tomorrow night I'd like to try."

Damian neatly added them to the bottom of the list and then pushed it toward Jon. "Anything else?"

Jon studied it for a few seconds and shook his head. "Nope, looks like you've got it covered. Want me to go get them?"

Damian arched an eyebrow at him. "After last time, when you almost got caught on camera being a bit too fast?"

Shrugging Jon did his best to look embarrassed instead of amused, failing almightily at it. "Almost isn't _did_."

"-tt-" Damian shook his head and pulled the list back. "I will go in a few hours when the lines have calmed down."

They lapsed into silence as Damian polished off the rest of his sandwich, then stood up to go wash his hands and the plate. He'd barely gotten to the sink when Jon spoke again.

"So... given it any more thought?"

Damian closed his eyes for a second and then looked down at the dish he was washing, concentrating on it. "I have. I may be more open to it than I was originally."

Jon's voice was closer this time and Damian's mind placed him as leaning against the island behind him. "That's good. What opened you up to it?"

"Having you point out how I reacted to certain people, I guess." He stared at the water as it splashed over the dish, cleaning it of the soap he'd used. Reaching to put it in the drain board, it never made it as Jon plucked it away and dried it with an aching slowness that told Damian he'd probably destroyed a few too many of Lois' dishes when he was younger. "It just made me stop and think about pretty much everyone I associate with on a regular basis and how I react to them."

"And you figured out your sexuality extends there as well?" There was a knowing tone to Jon's voice and Damian wondered just how long Jon had been aware of his reactions, decided it had probably been long before getting involved with him. 

When Damian didn't answer, Jon leaned against his back, bracketing him in with his arms and pushed his nose up against Damian's shoulder. "Have you made any decisions? Or even half decisions?"

Turning his head, Damian shifted until Jon leaned up and pecked him on the lips. He retreated back to his prior position, pressed to Damian's shoulder and Damian focused on washing the knives and cutting board in the sink as well as the pans that had been used.

"Less decisions and more... I suppose you could call it an idea of who I'd like to debate the whole concept of it with."

Jon's arms slipped around Damian from behind, hugging onto his abdomen. "Oh?"

"They're already sort of friends with you and you're already aware of my reactions to them."

"Neither of those is anything but analytical." Jon lightly tapped Damian's stomach. "Don't be a stodgy old man about this. Just once, yeah? Be the twenty two year old with a severely repressed sexuality who desperately needs to find someone to share that part with. Just _be_ that person for a few minutes, even if it's just to make some kind of decision and then the choice is yours what you do with it after that. _Please_. Be everything you've tried not to be for five minutes."

Damian's heart thudded in his chest and he swallowed thickly as he began to scrub the last pan. "You knew..."

"What? That you've been repressing yourself for years? I don't think that takes a detective to figure out."

Damian pushed the pan back in the sink and rinsed off his hands. Once he'd shut off the water and dried his fingers, he turned in Jon's grasp and pulled him in to tightly hug him for a moment, hiding himself away in the nape of his neck. "Look... it's not like I've been honestly upset by it or anything. Tim says... I found a solution and I executed it."

"Oh, I'm aware. It's just that your solution may be effective, but it's not anything more than that. It's like a sloppy field dressing. Does the job but it's not pretty."

"Did you just compare my – uh – "

He hesitated until Jon quietly supplied, "Masturbation."

"Yeah... to a field dressing?"

Jon huffed out a laugh and nuzzled against his shoulder again. "I did."

"Wow."

They were quiet for a few minutes until Jon untangled them and took Damian's hand instead, leading him to the couch and settling in right next to where Damian chose to sit. Their thighs pressed against one another and Jon put his hand on Damian's leg just like he always did. 

Flashes of Tim having touched nearly the same place raced through his mind and Damian felt his heart thud in his chest, felt the reaction start to come back and then right behind it discomfort at knowing he shouldn't be reacting this way. "I need a minute." He started to push himself up but Jon reached out and tugged him back down. 

"Is it urgently in need of being taken care of?"

Damian shook his head. "Then just... let it be. I can ignore it this time." Tipping his head back, Jon breathed out a little sigh. "I've been trying to work on things on my end, too. It's how this works, you know? I may never be comfortable with certain situations or ever want others, but you don't have to go running off every time your body gets excited. Just... don't make a big deal of it and I'll ignore it. Cool?"

Swallowing, Damian offered a quiet, "Cool."

They settled again and Jon patted his knee. "Did I set you off?"

"Kind of? But not... really."

"Explain."

"Uh..." Damian winced, trying to stare the picture on their far wall down instead of thinking about how his body was causing his cock to react to even this discussion. "I have been letting myself evaluate how I feel about people while I'm around them. Just letting my body react and then thinking my way through the why of it."

"Detective skills put to use in a whole new way."

Damian snorted. "Yeah. So the other day I was letting that happen around Tim and he may have patted my leg at one point when I was sitting next to him and I _may_ have had a really uh... large reaction to it."

"So my touch reminded you of his touch?"

"Not quite that simple, but yes."

"How was it not that simple?" There was genuine curiosity in Jon's voice and Damian relaxed to some degree because of it. 

"Because there were years where every time you did that it made me ache. The entire first year of our relationship you'd touch me in any way and I'd immediately be riled up. Chalk it up to how much I already loved you and toss in some teenage hormones for good measure."

"Would you like me not to touch you like that?" The question was honest, still filled with the same curiosity as his prior one.

Something very similar to panic gripped Damian at the words and he reached down to put his hand over Jon's, keeping it pressed to his leg. 

"I don't know what I'd do with myself if you stopped. I think it would break me."

Jon's hand squeezed faintly and then he was reaching up, cupping Damian's cheek and turning him toward him, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips. "I would _never_ stop something I want to do that you want to receive. I only asked because if it would make your life easier then I would be completely willing to stop doing it."

"Please don't ever stop..." Damian couldn't believe how tight his chest was or how much he felt like his world was on the verge of shattering over a simple offer. His mind reeled and he forced himself to close his eyes and take a step back from it, examine the why of this just as much as all of his other recent situations. 

He loved Jon with everything he had, loved him beyond the depths of what he'd ever supposed love could encompass. It wasn't something passing or meandering, wasn't infatuation or desire disguised as love. It was what many texts defined as pragma: a love unyielding and long-standing. A love of understanding and mutual respect. The mere idea of not being able to share some touch with Jon due – in no short part – to how Damian himself tended to want to show his affection left him feeling like he was dying from a shotgun blast to his core. 

His hand tightened on Jon's and he opened his eyes, staring again at the picture on the wall. "To stop would be to break me. This is how we fulfill the part of me that needs touch to show affection. Your hand on my leg, you hugging me from behind, our kisses and sharing a bed at night, how close we sit... all of it. I need that like I need air."

"I'll never stop then." Jon shifted almost impossibly closer, sliding one arm partly behind Damian and resting his chin on his shoulder. "I want you to feel the rest of something like this with whoever it is you want to choose. It's why I keep bringing it up. You have so much to give and take so much from even just these small touches and I can't help but think about how much you would gain from something more. My mind paints this beautiful picture of you being more relaxed and complete than ever before, of how radiant it would be and I want to give you that with my entire being... only that it cannot be _me_. We have these beautiful moments and this amazing partnership and I wouldn't give it up for the world. That's why I want to be friends with whoever it is. I want to share something with them, too, because then I can see the radiance, experience it just by existing when they're around and you're around and I think it would be just _incredible_."

Damian leaned heavily on Jon, not at all surprised that his body had stopped bothering him in the wake of the intensity of his fear. Turning his head, he nuzzled at Jon's hair until he leaned up and then he kissed him again, this time just a tiny bit more deeply than their usual. He pulled back before it could lead to anything uncomfortable for Jon, kissed the corner of his mouth instead and then pressed their foreheads together, just existing with him. 

"I love you with everything I am. I would need to know that you would never ever forget that, that you'd let me know the _instant_ you felt anything other than that, that you'd be bluntly honest with me if anything happened that you were uncomfortable with or that hurt you because I would never hurt you. It would crush me to think that I had."

Jon tipped his head to kiss Damian again, brief and more with purpose than anything else. "I'd tell you if anything was going wrong, I promise. If I feel our relationship is threatened or feel that the other person doesn't fit, I'll tell you. If they do anything I'm not comfortable with or don't respect my bounds then you'll be the very first to know."

Damian breathed out a quiet breath of relief. "And if you hate my decision on a person, you'd tell me?" Jon nodded. "And if they make you happy, you'd tell me that, too?" Jon grinned and nodded again.

Damian pressed another little kiss to his lips and let it linger, just flesh-to-flesh before he drew back enough to look Jon in the eyes. 

"Tim."

He swore Jon's smile brightened the entire living room. "That's the best choice I've ever heard. I like him already."

Letting out a little amused sound he tucked his head down against Jon's shoulder, closing his eyes. "Can I just stay here for a while?"

"Of course you can." Jon's hand came to rest on Damian's back, a gentle presence amidst his thoughts. 

He let his thoughts drift, allowed his mind the freedom to explore the concept of what he'd just proposed, and he felt the warmth inside of him grow though he'd never been entirely sure it could get any bigger. It seemed, perhaps, that his capacity to love was endless.


	4. Chapter 4

The following week Damian would have defined as harrowing. Three actual bombs around the city, two illegal pornography rings – of completely different varieties – and the usual array of muggings, break-ins, would-be murders, and general bullshit kept all of them busy. Not for the first time, Damian was immensely thankful Jon had moved to Gotham for more than the fact that their relationship was hands-down the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Jon was incredibly useful in the field. They worked in tandem so well that Damian only had to call the shots with a few words rather than drawn out plans. Half the time Jon knew exactly what was going on and what was needed before it ever became necessary to tell him. Every once in a while Damian would head toward an alarm and when he'd get there, he'd find Superboy holding a perp – nicely hogtied and dangling just for the lesson within it – his beautiful face smiling at Damian and a look in his eyes that asked if he'd done well. Damian had to admit: usually he thought Jon had. Whereas early on, he'd barked orders and snarled at Jon every chance he got, undercut him to feel like he was still worth something, he now did none of that. Hadn't since he'd been a thirteen year old with an attitude problem. Jon had smoothed his rough edges in a way that Dick had only hoped to manage and in a way Bruce would have been utterly helpless to accomplish. 

There'd been a time when Damian had tried to apologize for the past, but Jon had cut him off with their very first kiss. A chaste little thing that had closed his damn mouth and kept it closed the rest of the mission while his mind reeled over what he was feeling. He could still feel the tingle of it even after all this time, as if the moment held some sort of mystical force that kept it fresh and eternal in his memory. 

In fact, it kept him calm even under the worst of high-pressure field situations. Just a single memory and he'd rein in the child that still dwelled within him, the screaming boy that wanted revenge and pain more than he wanted anything else in the world. That voice was silenced with just the smallest thought toward that moment, as if presenting it to that child gave him everything he'd been seeking and placated him.

Even now, leaning on the kitchen counter at the manor, the instant Damian closed his eyes, that moment welled up behind them and left a little tug of a smile on his lips. 

"Well that must be quite the daydream to make _you_ smile." The teasing words were delivered simultaneously to the clink of ice falling into a glass and then the sound of the fridge door closing. 

Damian huffed, made a show of looking annoyed and then turned to give Tim a little smirk. "I'm allowed."

"Of course you are." Tim settled against the opposite counter, holding the glass full of ice against his side in a way that told Damian he'd taken a good hit out there tonight. "Just can't help but wonder what the subject was if it was that good."

"The first time Jon kissed me." In a way, Damian was surprised at his honesty, at how he wasn't hedging around the truth of it at all. Usually he played things closer to the chest than he had been the last few times he'd spoken with Tim. While he was incredibly open with Jon, it wasn't like that with everyone else. 

"I remember the week after that. You were on cloud nine." Tim tipped his glass toward Damian and then placed it back against his side. "Still are."

"Love of my damn life."

Tim smiled, tipped his head back and pressed the glass against both sides of his neck before it retreated again. "You seem more relaxed than last week. Figure some stuff out?"

"Maybe." Damian picked up his own glass and downed the rest of the water, placing the glass along the edge of the sink for later. "Actually wanted to talk to you again. It doesn't have to be now if you're not up for it, but soon."

"I'm game." He studied Damian and then pushed away from the counter, "Study?"

"Sitting room."

Tim nodded, though Damian could see the surprise he masked behind the action. No one bothered to use the sitting room unless there was company and lately that had been few and far between. 

They made their way down the hall, Damian pushing open the door and Tim closing it once they were inside. Damian chose the couch and intentionally settled to one side, turning himself a bit so it implied where he'd like Tim to sit, and he took the cue, settling on the other side of the short couch. Tim shifted and then placed the glass back against his side.

"Got hit real good?" Damian gestured toward the glass, genuinely concerned. Usually Tim didn't baby things or if he did, it wasn't usually in front of anyone.

"Took a steel toed combat boot to the side... about five times. Hit the same place several times and while it's not broken and nothing's ruptured, I'm pretty sure the rib's bruised. It's not exactly happy with me." He gave Damian a lopsided grin. "Gave him something to remember me by though."

Damian returned the somewhat evil smirk. "I should hope so. No one kicks Red Robin and gets away with it."

Tim fell silent and Damian took it as his time to return them to the proper subject. Clasping his hands and letting them dangle between his legs, Damian forced himself to keep watching Tim through all of this conversation no matter how much he wanted to choose something else to stare at behind him. "I talked with Jon again and I think it was really good for us. I learned what he wants for me from it and I've figured out some stuff about myself in the past week. I think Jon knew a lot of it to start with – super senses and all that – but I had to figure it out for myself. I react sexually to some degree to nearly everyone I have significant emotion toward... and some I do not. But those are different, sort of the way someone would react to seeing pornographic photos. Arousal but it's not a connection, you know?"

"I do."

"It's different with the people I know and different depending on how I care about them." He hesitated, uncertain how much to just go laying out there for Tim and how much he should just allude to. Finally, he just decided to ask Tim's opinion on it. "How much do you really care to know about my reactions? I'm willing to put it all on the table but if you don't want to know then there's little point."

"Whatever you wish to tell me, I'm here to listen to. You're not going to make me uncomfortable. Even if you told me your deepest darkest kink secrets I don't think it'd bother me."

Through some miracle Damian managed not to blush at that, instead took in a steadying breath and plunged forward. "With Dick, I react physically and it's just out of pure affection for him. I don't _actually_ want to have sex with him, though I don't think I would react negatively to things that are culturally out of bounds for where we live. Longer hugs, more touches, even kissing him. While my body would continue forward with its reactions, I don't feel that I would want to consummate what I have with him."

He gave Tim a minute to digest that and then continued. "With part of the Titans, I have something somewhere between that and just an arousal reaction. I find them attractive and my body is willing to go with that and supply me with reactions to the images that make home in my mind, but I find no actual desire to act on the reactions. Different, but still a sexual response."

"I can relate."

"Right, like if I weren't into settling down or long term or what have you, then I'd probably go for it, but I see no point to even thinking on it because I don't truly want to be with them."

Tim nodded and Damian could feel the knot somewhere inside him that told him he had arrived at the one that really mattered in this discussion. "Then there's this group of people – some more than others – that I feel entirely different about. It's not quite like with Jon where everything feels like I'd combust if I didn't have him in my life, but it's... similar. People I feel so strongly about in just the right manner that there _is_ sexual arousal involved and with whom I could see myself consummating it with. It's not a big group and there's definitely one person who stands out amongst the rest as someone I could trust and love and find myself involved with long term." He tipped his head and allowed himself leave to look at the bookcase behind Tim. "It was difficult, at first, to reconcile that with the fact that I'd never want to leave Jon. I see myself with him for the rest of our lives and that's not some childish fantasy, it's just the truth. So it took me a few days to think about how I really felt about this one group of people – and, in particular, this one person – and the emotions they stir up inside me."

Damian pushed his lips together and wet along the inside of them before letting himself smile. "Are you familiar with the Greek words that represented the different forms of love?"

"To some degree. I know agape is like the love you should have for everyone, like being selfless, charitable, and kind. And there's one that's sort of all about sex..." Tim looked thoughtful for a second, "eros?"

"Mostly correct, yes. There are others as well. Like pragma, which I think is fairly apt at describing how I feel about Jon. Deep understanding, long-lasting love. Something you never see an end to. There's also philia which was most commonly described as the way you'd feel about someone you trust on the battlefield or held a deep friendship with. For obvious reasons we've fallen out of using that term. Most people won't know the roots of it because when they hear 'philia' they think firstly of the bad philias, then maybe of others which our country has deemed to be distasteful. It still seems odd to me why certain meanings fall to the wayside, but that's beside the point." 

Tim gave an amused huff at the tangent and Damian plowed onward. "Ludus, which is probably best described as the sort of love between young playful lovers. The teasing and flirting kind of existence of love. Storge, the love between a parent and a child and Philautia or self-love. If you really want to delve, there's more to it than that, but it's a good start for what I'm trying to explain."

Tim shifted, placing the glass on the coffee table and then leaned forward, peering curiously at Damian as he spoke. The position made Damian want to smile, lifted something inside him that Tim was giving it all so much attention and some part of him settled on the idea that perhaps Tim already knew where this was going. 

"So if I had to explain where this last group of people fit using those terms, which are still a crude method, I'd say it's some combination of eros, philia, and pragma. There's understanding between us that I cannot discount, I would be deeply wounded by the loss of one of them, I definitely desire them beyond what eros would imply, and they assuredly fit into the sort of relationship you'd have to have to trust someone out in the field. Every person in this category invokes a certain base reaction from me as well as has my love and affection already."

"Sounds like a hard-earned category to me."

Damian met Tim's gaze and held it, trying desperately to convey how he felt through his gaze alone, allowed his body language to try to speak for him, which he was sure was clumsy and anything but foolproof since he usually kept it at bay with nearly everyone but Jon and Dick. 

"It is... as I'm sure you're perfectly aware."

Damian watched the faint light of surprise in Tim's eyes before he ducked his head and breathed out a quiet pleased sound. 

"Oh yeah? _I'm_ aware of it?"

Pushing himself up and sliding across the couch to settle on his knees closer to Tim, he let his fingertips lightly rest on Tim's knee, the least invasive way he could think to put contact between them. "When I'm around you, I'm at ease. When you touch me, my body lights on fire. When you show me your brilliance and allow me to be involved in it, it's blinding in its beauty. I refuse to be anything less than blunt with you about this. Thinking of everyone around me, everyone I know, you're the only one I could truly think of wanting to share something so intimate with."

"And Jon?" Tim's voice was quiet, smaller than Damian had heard it in a long, long time. 

"I said your name and he lit up like a Christmas tree. His desire to be friends with the person is already met with you. My everything would be... the only questions that remain are all the ones you'd have to answer."

Tim bit his lower lip and then released it. "And what questions would those be?"

Damian hummed, a certain familiarity coming over him. "Quite a few." He watched the smile tug at Tim's lips, knew he'd caught the reversal as well. "Do you desire me?"

Tim looked up, catching and holding his gaze, a nakedness in his eyes that Damian had never seen there before. "I do."

"Being poly yourself, do you think that Jon and I could give you all that you need?"

"I believe that question is best answered by all three of us together, but if I had to hazard a guess, I would say it could come damn close."

"What would _you_ need from this? From each of us?"

Tim reached up then, cupping the back of Damian's neck and tugging him down until their lips met. The kiss was slow, tentative, achingly tender at first. Enough so that Damian melted into it with a quiet sigh, relaxed against Tim's side, his hand resting fully on his thigh as they continued kissing for what felt like an eternity. The ramp upward was slow, intentional, and by the time Damian realized he was getting hard, Tim was already drawing him closer, tugging him in to straddle one thigh. 

Tim's hand delved into his hair and Damian outright whined into the kiss. He could feel himself getting harder and harder, the throb of his cock letting him know he was just as inexperienced as his mind told him he was, yet the kiss continued until Tim's tongue was in his mouth and Damian's hands were digging into the back of the couch in some attempt to control himself. 

Finally Tim ended the kiss, letting his lips trail lazily over Damian's jaw until he pressed his cheek against Damian's own and offered up a pleased sigh. "You're trying so hard to hold it all back, aren't you?" Damian nodded and Tim's tongue flicked over his earlobe, making him gasp. "Well... one thing I wanted to know for certain was definitely answered."

"Which was?"

"If you just thought you wanted me or if you actually do and if I wanted you the way I thought I might."

"Verdict?"

"Look down and find out." There was amusement in Tim's voice and Damian hesitated a second before he pulled back to look down between them, saw the obscene tent in Tim's sleep pants.

"You're hard."

Tim snorted. "Thank you, Captain Obvious. Want a medal for that observation?"

Damian tipped his head back and huffed out a laugh that half sounded like a cough. "Fucking dweeb."

"Hmm... another answer then." Damian could hear the grin in Tim's voice this time.

"Oh?"

"That nothing changes. We don't lose something somewhere in the midst of giving in to one another. That's important. Paramount even, given our work situation."

Damian shifted and then froze, arousal shooting through him so quickly his breath caught and he swore he was about to lose it in his pants. Embarrassment was quick to crop up behind and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek.

Tim's hands lightly grazed up his sides. "Exactly how much have you been repressing?"

"That... is not a question you want an answer to."

"What the hell were you doing? Just giving it a quick tug and moving on?" Damian nodded and Tim sighed, rubbing his hand over Damian's side again. "You're like a loaded gun. Wanna maybe mix it up a little when you do? Fantasize or stare at porn or something? You've got like every teenage hormone all shoved up in there and rolled up in a twenty-something's body. Let some of it out before you give yourself an aneurism."

"Pretty sure that's part of the point of all of this, of why Jon kept bringing it up." Damian took a steadying breath and then another, closing his eyes and starting to draw on his breathing exercises. 

"Nope. _Nope_. Absolutely not. Stand up and march your ass to the bathroom – _hell_ , I'll go for a minute – and take _care_ of this. You do not go repressing this time around. Think about what happened, what we just did, let it go wherever you want in that brilliant mind of yours, and actually find satisfaction this time around, yeah?"

Tim slipped out from under Damian, left him leaning on the back of the couch with his head bowed, trying not to pant for each breath. "If I come back in fifteen and this room doesn't smell like sex, I'm going to be angry."

Damian let out a tiny laugh, afraid any aggressive movement would set him off as it was. "Don't honestly think I need fifteen minutes."

Tim paused at the door. "Well... maybe _I_ do." With that, the door opened and then closed, and Damian buried his face in the couch to moan at the mere idea of Tim going to jerk off because of what they'd just done. Tim was horny... because of him.

He listened to the house, to the sound of it, until he picked up the faint closure of the bathroom door down the hallway and then he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to. 

Ripping at his pants, he wrenched them open and shoved both hands in, muffling a shout of pleasure in the back of the couch as he cupped his balls in one hand and wrapped his other hand around his cock. Instead of going for gold, he squeezed his sac lightly, played with it until he was straining in his hand, until he was imagining Tim doing this for him, and then gave in and bucked hard against his hand, gasping and groaning against the material shoved in front of his mouth. 

His hips bucked and his entire body began to seize up as he imagined Tim's touch everywhere. His hands on his hips, then on his thighs, a tender touch along his sac and then back along his taint until he pressed one of his own fingers against the sensitive nerves of his ass. He gave it a rub and his eyes nearly crossed. It'd been _years_ since he'd given in to that particular desire. His cock strained and then he was groaning Tim's name between the cushions as he began to spurt across his own wrist. 

Grabbing his cock, he stroked through it until he couldn’t breathe, until he was trembling, and only then did he let go of his cock and deflate against the couch, panting for breath. 

His entire body burned, like fire had been lit under his skin and was traveling through him to warm every crevice. His body shivered and he ducked his head to gasp in more air and just to grin like a damn fool to himself. That felt _wonderful_. Giving in felt like years of stress just melting away. 

To think, that had all been because of a little kissing.


	5. Chapter 5

Damian rested with his fist against his cheek, watching Jon and Tim talk to one another. They'd made plans almost a week ago and in between there hadn't been time to breathe much less actively discuss anything. It wasn't like there had been any official decisions made, but Jon had made it perfectly clear that the ball was in Damian's court. The words – should they be spoken – were entirely on him. 

Tim laughed and Damian watched Jon light up, his hand coming out to playfully touch Tim's shoulder, giving him the slightest shove that Tim purposefully exaggerated, a huge grin on his face. 

Damian had seen them interact before, had always quietly appreciated their ability to exist in the same world and understand one another's jokes and references. Now he saw it in the light of potential and he couldn't help but let it warm his heart. Jon was undeniably happy around Tim and while it was clear there was absolutely nothing but friendship, it was still beautiful. 

Tim's gaze flickered to Damian's own and he felt his heartbeat speed up, let Tim's easy grin get to him in a way he usually tamped down on with a vicious hand. Heat eased through his body the longer Tim watched him and he let it spiral until he was flushed and verging on arousal. Looking away, he gave himself a moment to cool off before he looked to Jon, wondering what he'd find there.

Jon was grinning at him like a complete fool and Damian only arched his eyebrow in response, a silent question.

"You like him."

"If I didn't, we wouldn't be here," he answered unapologetically as it was vaguely embarrassed. 

Tim snorted. "I'm right here, you know."

Damian flicked him a glance and changed a quiet, "Oh, I'm well aware."

Jon's laughter caught Damian off guard and he jerked his gaze back to his boyfriend, studying the pure happiness on his face and let himself revel in it. If he'd thought there was going to be any issue on Jon's part, he had been clearly _very_ wrong. 

Jon pushed up from his seat, going around the table to pick up their dishes and then leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Damian's head, the little action of affection something Damian inherently leaned into. 

"I'll give you two a few minutes," the words were hushed, meant only for Damian's ears, and it sent the barest hint of a shiver down his spine. 

Once he heard clanking from the kitchen, he pushed himself up and gestured toward the living room. He spent a minute getting their gaming system up and running, putting in the DVD they'd all agreed upon and then turned back to where Tim had made himself comfortable on the sofa. For a second there was hesitation. The desire to go and curl up with Tim was there, but he also didn't want to push anything beyond what Jon would be comfortable with. Behind that was the knowledge that if something like that _did_ make him uncomfortable, he needed to know _now_ , before he and Tim made this into something. Before the pain of letting go would be crushing.

He toed his shoes off under the coffee table and circled it. Crawling up on the couch beside Tim, he intentionally settled right up against him and Tim slid his arm around Damian's shoulders, tucking him in next to him. Damian's heart pounded and before he could tell himself it wasn't a rational response with Jon just around the corner, he turned and caught Tim's mouth in what he intended to make a quick little kiss. The moment their lips met it was like he was burning up inside. Heat burned through his body, his stomach tightening with arousal. Their lips slid against each other, then their tongues and Damian couldn't stop the moan that bubbled up inside him. A hard shudder ripped through him and he had to pull back in order to stop himself from wanting to go further. Wetting his lips, he stared at Tim, knew he looked as fucked out as he felt by the way Tim was studying him.

Turning back around, Damian settled, pulled his legs up in a way that covered his arousal, and settled in, Tim's arm around his waist now and Damian's fingers weaved with his.

Jon didn't take much longer to come in, putting tea mugs in front of both of them on the coffee table and then settling right up along Damian's other side, their thighs touching just as they always did. His hand came to rest on Damian's knee and he leaned his head on Damian's shoulder. "DVD in?"

Damian's heart rate smoothed out, his anxiousness over Jon's reaction to his and Tim's closeness fading away when there didn't seem to be any issue with it. "It's in."

Jon stretched out his foot and nudged the controller, poking the button to start it up with his big toe. The previews started and Damian watched as Jon managed to hit all the correct buttons with his toe to get to the actual movie. 

A glance at Tim presented him with Tim's amused face and he could feel the held back laughter that rumbled in Tim's chest. He hid his own little grin when the movie began to play and Jon retracted his foot.

"He's been working on his dexterity and his ability to be gentle no matter what he's doing."

"I broke another dish last week and I think there's two families who'd be really happy if I would stop doing that."

"I'm sure," Tim offered, amusement clear in his voice. "Looks like you're getting it under control."

"There's a controller in the trash that gave its life to prove otherwise." Damian deadpanned and Tim burst out laughing, Jon scrunching his nose cutely as he stared at them both. Damian poked his nose and Jon sputtered before leaning up and stealing a quick little kiss and settling down again.

"Shut up and watch the movie, brat."

Damian hid his grin, instead drawing up his leg and pushing his toes under Jon's thigh, keeping their contact but giving himself the privacy to readjust his still on-edge body.

Tim didn't miss the action, his fingers tightening on Damian's own for a moment, his thumb giving a little rub against Damian's abdomen. It felt like a promise and Damian shuddered at the idea of it, his cheeks heating. His attention divided from the movie and he zoned out, letting himself imagine a reality where this was allowed every day. Where he could feel okay with his body's reactions and yet not make Jon uncomfortable in any way. Where he could give in with Tim and still hold everything he already did with Jon. 

A smile worked its way onto his lips and he simply allowed it existence. This was it. This could be real.

Without any care as to the movie at all, he twisted a little and gazed up at Tim, caught and held in his eyes, and breathed out quietly, "Would you do this with us?"

A smile tugged at Tim's mouth, his hand moving to run through Damian's hair, his touch leaving Damian breathless, leaving something fresh like a spring breeze in his soul. 

"Yeah, I think I'd like that."

Damian turned to look at Jon, found him watching them, wonder and light in his eyes, and Damian knew he'd made the right decision. 

This was theirs. This _was_ real.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a time skip here. Just be prepared to be told along the way how things have been going.

Damian wasn't often at the manor for any extended period of time – or at least long enough for opportunities to arise – but he'd been here three days already, helping Bruce work a case that required most of his attention. Tonight they'd both managed to silently admit they needed some time without their noses stuck in the midst of way too much data and had gone their separate ways for a few hours. 

For his part, Damian had drifted off upstairs to his old bedroom. He'd intended to settle in for a few hours' sleep and maybe use some of the paints he'd left to create a quick art project. Instead, he'd found himself rooting through shelves of his old stuff and had come across the two pornographic magazines he'd pilfered from a store they'd raided. He hadn't felt bad since the guy was dealing meth out of the back of the shop and he still remembered lifting them and how he'd felt so silly with two magazines full of naked men shoved up under his tunic for the rest of the night.

Settling on his bed, he leafed through the first one, recalling the way he'd been aching before even opening the first one that night and just how frantically he'd jerked it for weeks, one page at a time so he wouldn't ruin the surprise for himself as to what was on the next one. He'd been eager, just barely ramping into his sexuality and, to date, it was one of the few times pornography had excited him to that extent. 

He tossed the first one on the nightstand and picked up the second one, slowly flipping through the pages until he paused at one image, feeling himself starting to become urgently hard as he stared at it. Shifting his hips, he let his eyes rake over the image. This man had a different body type than the rest, had reminded him, even then, of Jon and it had excited him on a whole new level. Now he only wondered if it had been okay that he thought of him the way he had or if he'd violated him in some strange way by thinking of him while staring at this naked man. 

Releasing a little huff of breath through his teeth, he made up his mind and gave himself a pass on that particular action. He hadn't known Jon's sexuality at the time and he'd been what felt like the horniest teenager on the planet. Aside from that, he was pretty sure Jon wouldn't care what he thought about since thoughts didn't hurt anyone. 

Flipping the page, he kept leafing through the magazine until he hit another of his favorite images, this one of a man floating on one of those ridiculous inflatable pool loungers, his cock very much erect, and his arms pillowed behind his head. There was actual evidence of how much Damian had enjoyed that image the first time on the damn page and he made a face at how sloppy he'd been back then, the page crackling as he flipped to the next one, being more careful of where he touched. Three more pages and there was a quick knock and the door opened. 

"Hey, Damian I heard you were –" Tim stepped into the room and their eyes met briefly before Tim's gaze flicked over the magazine and Damian's fairly obvious erection, and then he was grinning at him, "here and wanted to come see you, but I can come back." He turned to leave, but lingered there for a moment, his voice lower when he spoke again. "Or, if you want, I could _stay_."

Damian's heart slammed in his chest and he swore his cock was harder than it had ever been right then. Not only had he gotten caught looking at dirty magazines, but he was being propositioned by the very person he could have this with. His cock strained in his pants and he tossed the magazine on the nightstand and leaned back on his hands to show how hard he was a bit more obviously. 

The door clicked shut, the lock turned and then Tim was there, leaning over him and cupping his cheek as he leaned in and kissed him deeply. Their tongues met and intertwined, Damian trying to stop the whine that bubbled up in his throat at the contact. His toes curled in the soft carpet and he pushed up, rocking his hips against the air between his body and Tim's. 

Breaking the kiss, he whispered, "Want you."

Tim slid onto the bed, straddling Damian's thighs and then reached under him, grabbing his ass and lifting him up until Damian was rocking frantically against Tim's growing erection. "That's right... just like that. God, you're so beautiful when you're needy."

Damian bit out a groan that should have been a curse, his back arching. He wanted more, more than this play they'd been engaging in. His body screamed for completion – to penetrate or be penetrated. To have his cock engulfed in Tim's warm mouth or at least taste Tim's cum spill across his tongue. _Anything_. Twice now they'd made out like they had on the couch in the sitting room and twice they'd taken it so far that Damian had shot off in his pants, but he didn't want to do it there again. He wanted bare touch on his length, wanted Tim's hands and mouth and body all over his own.

He whined as he tried to arch enough to actually press against Tim's erection as frustration grew inside him. "Stop being a _tease_ , Drake."

"Oh-ho, it's been a while since you pulled out the big guns. Think using my last name is going to scare me off my tactics?"

"Do you think this is some kind of _game_?" Damian's voice hedged on dangerous, felt his desperation turning to irritation deep in his gut. He wanted to cum and wanted to do it somewhere other than in his own clothing.

"Hmm..." Tim leaned down and bit lightly at his neck, scraping his teeth along the column of flesh until he licked back up the same path. "Absolutely not. No game has ever been this amazing."

"Fuck you." He spit out the words before he could think better of them, flushed the moment they caught up to him.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Damian's heart thudded and he gasped, his hips snapping up hard, Tim kneading his ass cheeks and then moving to rub up and down his thighs. 

"You mean it?"

Tim slid off the bed and fear lanced through Damian. He sat up, preparing to tell him he wasn't serious, that it was okay and that wasn't at all what they had to do, but the words died on his tongue as he watched Tim unbutton his skinny jeans and slide them and his briefs down in one fluid motion. He'd already been barefoot so all it took was one simple action and he was free of the lower half of his clothing. His shirt followed soon enough and then he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Damian gaping at him.

His brain caught up a second later and he frowned to himself. "I don't have lube or anything. Never... had a reason?"

Tim came back out and tossed a tiny tube on the bed beside him and then leaned over his pants, rooting in the pocket and pulling out a small leather pouch, from which he extracted a condom. 

"Back when this was my room, I may have stashed a few things. Looks like you never found the lube I left all over this place."

"You... _oh God_."

Tim gave him an amused look. "Jerked off right where you were gonna? Fucked right here in this room? Fingered myself in _your_ shower? Got blown right there in that window seat?" He tipped his head toward it. "I had enough sex in here to make a priest cry."

Damian choked on his snort, leaning back and then reaching down to start to unbutton and unzip his pants. 

Tim batted his hands away and took over, tugging them down to just under his ass and then leaning in and running his lips up the side of Damian's dick, leaving him gasping and arching up toward the warmth of his breath. "Do you want me inside you or do you want to fuck me, as you so eloquently put it?" His every word was breathed against Damian's dick, setting his entire world on fire until his thighs were trembling with the effort of not shooting off just from the contact.

"Doesn't... doesn't matter. Anything. Absolutely anything."

He felt Tim smile against his dick and Damian let out a quiet cry, throwing his head back and arching as Tim's tongue slid up over the head and a kiss was pressed to the slit. "Mmm... giving me your pre already... so eager." Tim lapped and Damian shouted this time, his balls tightening and his pulse pounding. 

"Tim, I'm go–"

"Shh..." Tim's hands slid up over his thighs, kneading and massaging, calming him down over the course of the next few minutes until he was kissing along his hip and abdomen, his hands busy elsewhere. Damian could hear the slick sound of Tim prepping himself and he was thankful he didn't need to try to focus on such things the first time. He would be lucky if he didn't cum just from pressing against Tim's tight hole.

Damian's cock strained again and he whimpered, arching and panting, holding the position as his penis trembled, right on the verge of orgasm for what seemed like forever. It took a few minutes but he finally cooled off enough that Tim reached for him and slid the condom down over his cock.

Straddling him, Tim gave him a cheeky smile. "You're going to cum fast and that's okay. Just enjoy it. There'll be plenty more times to last."

Panting, Damian reached up and grasped Tim's hips, more to steady himself than anything, needing something to ground him to the here and now as he stared down at what Tim was doing. Tim's hand gripped around his base and Damian flexed hard in his grip, moaned before Tim ever even settled his ass against his dick. It was too much, he was going to lose it in seconds like this.

A desperate little cry escaped him as Tim pressed down against his cock, his body opening up around Damian's length as he penetrated him. Another sharp cry left him as his hips surged up, his hands trying to pull Tim down on him. He needed in. He needed to be buried in Tim's tight heat all the way and he needed it right _now_.

Tim settled astride him the rest of the way and put his weight into it, forcing Damian to stay still for a minute. "Breathe for me... you're not breathing."

Damian gasped in air and Tim slid his hands to roam Damian's torso, sliding over toned muscles until Damian wasn't gasping.

Tim shifted slowly over him until he was leaning over Damian and then he began to slowly lift his hips and lower them back down, slipping Damian's cock in and out of his body with every movement. Damian's hands reached for the sheets, fisting them as he started to tremble. Everything in him was on edge, parts of it feeling like near panic, other parts like Heaven had decided to come down to Earth and present itself to him right here in his old bedroom. His balls were so tight they actually hurt and his thighs wouldn't stop shaking. 

Tim kept him on edge for a long time, knowing exactly when to stop so he didn't cum just yet, kept him so high he was sure the condom was filling up with his pre-cum instead. Once he even felt his cock pulsing but hadn't actually orgasmed yet, _knew_ he'd lost part of his load into the condom already and he lay there gasping for a good minute before he couldn't stand it anymore. 

"Need to. I need to!"

Tim shifted over him, settling astride him where Damian's cock was halfway up inside him and braced his hands on Damian's chest. "Fuck me, then. Fuck me until you cum so hard you scream for me."

With a moan, Damian grabbed Tim's hips and began to pound up into his tight hole, the bed protesting and his voice rising with every thrust until he was nearly sobbing with pleasure as he began to shoot deep inside Tim's ass. 

Tim began to move then, duplicating his movements and Damian _did_ start half-sobbing then, desperately trying to keep fucking, his nerves on fire as Tim rode him hard for a minute and then strained over him and cried out. A second later Tim's body was pulsing around Damian's cock as he came all over Damian's stomach, moaning his way through the whole thing. 

Damian stared up at him, feeling the dampness of the tears he'd shed sliding down his cheeks and not caring at all. He felt like some beast inside him had finally been sated and he could think straight for the first time in years. He stared up at Tim while he caught his breath, running his hands over Tim's hips.

When Tim came down, he moved off of Damian, rid him of the condom and then slid down next to him, sliding one leg over Damian's and curling up on his side against him. "So?"

"So... I came harder than I've ever managed before?"

Tim hid his smile in Damian's shoulder. "You can do better than that."

"It was... clearing. It felt like being able to not be on edge and like something inside me calmed for the first time in years."

Tim kissed his shoulder, nuzzling into it and just existing there for a while. "Your desperation got me off pretty hardcore, just so we're clear. You needing it so bad made me cum for you."

Damian shivered, trying and failing to hide his grin as he shifted to press closer to Tim's side. "You just rode my dick."

"That... I did." Tim beamed at him and Damian just turned his head to smile up at the ceiling. 

"Would it be remiss to tell you thank you right now?"

"I mean... it's not usually what you tell your partner but I think, coming from you, that's a huge compliment." Tim reached up and cupped Damian's cheek, turned him toward him and pressed their lips together. "I'll take it."

"Then... thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

Damian woke up next to Jon, his alarm blaring on the other side of the room and he groaned, rolling over just enough to stuff his head under the pillow and growl. He had no interest in getting up and definitely no interest in going to the meeting Bruce wanted him to attend that had him getting up so damn early. 

The bed didn't even have time to realize Jon was gone before he was back and the alarm had been shut off. "You need a new one that doesn't _suck_. I'm going to murder that thing one day." Jon sounded as grouchy as Damian felt and he couldn't possibly blame him.

Rolling over, Damian double-checked his body for any leftover reactions from sleeping before trusting himself enough to reach out and tug Jon close to him. He wriggled out from under the pillow and shoved is cold nose against Jon's shoulder. "How much trouble do you think I'll get in for not attending?"

"Eh... less than dead and more than silent treatment?"

"I'll take that under advisement." Damian stifled a yawn against Jon's skin and groaned. "I'm not made for this time in the morning."

"You mean you're not made for less than an hour's worth of sleep. None of us are, so big surprise there."

Damian snorted and then sighed. He didn't want to get up, he didn't want to leave the safety of the bed and he definitely didn't want to leave how comfortable he was being able to cuddle with Jon for the first time in what had to have been months. He'd been enjoying his and Tim's time together as much as he was truly indulging whatever time he took to himself and it left him enough breathing room to not end up hopelessly turned on by any physical contact he was offered. He'd stopped responding to every touch with a hard on and he'd started to be able to tame the sexual part of his reactions to situations involving lots of contact. He no longer felt like Dick's story about hiding behind the podium until his boner went away and felt more like what he assumed adults were supposed to feel like when they received affection. His stomach still tightened and he felt like his blood still warmed, but he didn't go from zero to desperate with no warning at all. 

Nuzzling into Jon's neck, he breathed out a quiet sigh and reveled in how Jon wasn't tense against him. Before, they hadn't been able to get this close for this long; his body would have made itself known and Jon's would have given him all the signals to tell him to run. But this... this was glorious. 

He inhaled his boyfriend's scent and hid his smile against his neck. "This is nice."

Jon hummed, reaching back to slide a hand through his hair. "It's so nice I'm voting on playing interference in the whole 'Bruce getting angry at you' department."

Damian rubbed his nose and lips on Jon's shoulder and considered it for a moment, allowed himself to fantasize about not going to a boring ass meeting and instead staying curled up in bed with this wonderful guy he was lucky enough to be dating. He stretched and yawned again, closing his eyes. 

"Ten minutes?" Just ten more minutes of this wonderful contented feeling.

Jon shifted in his arms. "I'll wake you up."

Damian tightened his hold a fraction and pushed his leg between Jon's own, letting their ankles hook and he gave a pleased little sound, letting his mind carry him back off to the darkness of sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Damian's hands clutched at the couch arm, his breath pulling tight in his chest. Behind him, Tim's hand was tight on his hip and his cock was doing _fantastic_ things buried deep inside Damian's ass. They'd discovered less than a week ago that Damian reacted far more than favorably to having his ass played with and Tim had been working him up to this ever since. Every given moment they had together had been spent exploring it, anything from Tim's fingers to his mouth to finally blessedly _this_. 

Damian's thighs felt like jelly and his insides were quivering from the intensity of the pleasure he was feeling. Some part of him felt really bad for his neighbors given how loud his voice was as he gave Tim a not-so-private screening of just how loud he really wanted to be. His cock was leaking between his legs, the tip of it pushing against the couch cushions with every sharp rut of their hips, with every slide of Tim's perfect cock into Damian's body.

Tim shifted and shoved back in and Damian _did_ scream, the position lighting something inside him that left him gasping for his breath and absolutely desperate to feel it again. His breath panted and he didn't bother to stop the new mantra of, "Please... please... _please_ ," that fell from his lips as Tim took him harder with every thrust. He didn't stop the way he yelled it loud enough everyone had to know he was about to get off and Tim breathed out a quiet, "God _yes_ ," behind him.

Another few rough jerks of Tim's hips and then Tim pulled out, the couch cushions shifting then his hands were on Damian's cock, rolling a condom down snugly over his length. 

"Want you to cum inside and then I'll return the favor."

Damian trembled at Tim's touch, knew that – as usual – he wasn't going to last. He got himself up enough that Tim slid between him and the couch arm, putting himself at nearly the right height, and Damian nudged his cock against his entrance, sighing in pleasure as Tim took him like it was nothing at all. He'd discovered Tim's little talent early on – his ability to relax himself to the point he needed no preparation as long as there was lube and arousal involved. Damian eagerly pushed in, stilled himself just to get used to being buried in him instead of being filled, and then he was moving quick and hard, chasing his orgasm with a desperate intensity that left Tim gasping and pleading under him. 

Even as he started to cum, he kept pounding into Tim's body, reveling in the slap of his sac against Tim's skin, in the sensation of driving his overly sensitive cock into his tight hole again and again until it was too much and he absolutely _had_ to stop. He pulled out and it was only a second before Tim had turned over and was tugging Damian onto his lap, positioning himself and pushing right back up inside him. 

"Holy fuck, I need you."

Damian clutched at Tim, holding himself still as Tim thrust up into him, clearly eager to find his own end now that Damian had come undone for him. His fingers carefully removed Damian's condom and tossed it toward the trash, carefully cradling Damian's cum-covered cock in his hand. The sensation seemed to do it for him because Damian watched his head fall back and his mouth drop open. His hips moved faster and the sound of their union filled the apartment, slick and needy. He watched Tim's muscles tense, watched his entire body prepare for his orgasm, and then Tim's cock was twitching inside him and Tim was gritting out, "Oh yeah, oh fucking hell yeah. _Damian_ ," and if Damian had had it in him, he'd have cum again right then, just from watching Tim's orgasm wash over him.

Tim huffed out a pleased little sound and gave a shiver, settling back against the couch as Damian carefully pulled off his cock and got rid of his condom for him as well. They settled back with each other, Damian still straddling him, and let themselves come back down together. 

Damian was halfway toward being asleep on Tim's shoulder by the time Tim rubbed up his back and breathed out, "It's ten 'til."

With a quiet groan, Damian pushed himself up and managed to locate the various pieces of his clothing, tugging them on and cleaning up the remnants of the evidence of their activities. They hadn't meant to end up having sex on the couch, hadn't even really planned on it today, but every single touch had set Damian off and Tim had eventually started giving him a lazy handjob just out of interest in seeing how far he could take Damian with nothing else. An orgasm and a desperate plea later, Tim had been buried in his ass, fucking his brains out right there on the couch.

Damian shivered, studying the spot on the couch he'd never regard the same way again and headed to the bathroom to clean up a bit. A washcloth and a good handwashing later, he rejoined Tim on the couch, finding him looking so put back together that he almost couldn't tell he had sex at all. Damian, on the other hand, looked about as thoroughly fucked as he really was. His cheeks held a flush and there was a brilliance in his eyes that he couldn’t get rid of. 

Plopping down between Tim's outstretched legs, he leaned back against him and Tim pushed a lazy hand into his hair. There was a tender kiss to the top of his head and Tim's quiet voice. 

"Feeling okay about having done this here?"

Damian nodded, tipping his head back to look at Tim, allowing the small pull of his lips up at the corners. "Yeah. I feel better about it being here actually."

Tim smiled down at him, rubbed his hand over Damian's abdomen and by the time the door clicked open and Jon's presence entered the house, they were languidly kissing again. They didn't bother to stop as Damian heard Jon's footsteps and then felt his weight as he plunked down on Damian's side, his arms going around him. 

Damian curled his arm around Jon, his kiss deepening with Tim until his pulse started to pick up. He nipped Tim's lower lip and pulled away from it to beam at Jon, who had been watching them. Curiosity shone in Jon's eyes and Damian smiled, reaching to run his hand through Jon's hair. 

"Still okay with this?"

"Perfectly. It's interesting watching you two kiss. It's different."

Damian gave a rumble of acknowledgment and then Jon was settling against him with a yawn. "Long day."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, there was this _huge_ fire in Brazil. Dad and I had to help or it would have been a lot worse than it already was."

"You don't smell like smoke, manage to finagle a shower out of the fortress this time?"

Jon huffed and turned to look up at Damian again. "No! Stupid AI still hates me, but your dad was nice enough to let me use the cave."

"Damn, you must have said you owe him a favor or something. What'd you do?" Tim sounded completely amused and Damian arched an eyebrow, his silence mirroring the question.

"Nah, he was just thankful we didn't let anyone die. Told me anyone who's dating two of his sons gets first dib privileges with the showers."

Damian couldn't stop his laugh, body shaking with the power of it. "It only took _two_ before he allowed it. Damn, who knew. Someone tell Dick and Jason they need to step up their game."

Tim's laugh was silent, but Damian felt it anyway, watched the huge grin that spread over Jon's lips. "Do they even know?"

Damian raised one hand and pointed between him and Tim and then between him and Jon. "Yeah, I should damn well hope so or else I'm sure one of them would have cornered one of us by now to demand to know why I'm cheating."

"Jay's familiar with my predilections and Dickie would never dream of thinking you were doing anything sordid, trust me. He'd fight anyone who thought you weren't utter perfection."

Jon settled back again and Damian started to rub up and down his back, his touch gentle, built to be soothing. Tim's hand resumed a slow path through Damian's hair and he – in turn – relaxed back against him with a quiet sigh. 

This was their life and this was _everything_.


	9. Chapter 9

Damian let his spoon drop down into his bowl. It'd been a while since Tim, Jon and he indulged at this level and sharing a giant sundae was about as close as any of them were going to get to violating their dietary restrictions. Well, any of them but Dick, though he wasn't here to share in the sweet perfection that had been this strawberry, caramel, and blueberry topped vanilla and rocky road ice cream sundae with a dollop of fresh whipped cream and raspberries from the store's own garden. 

Damian swiped the last bit of whipped cream off the rim of the container and popped his finger in his mouth, sucking it clean before settling back with a sigh, his hand going to his stomach, idly rubbing over it. It had been good, but he was sure the sugar high would make them all pay in a few hours.

Tim passed Jon a napkin and he wiped a streak of blueberry syrup from his chin. Jon shifted on his side of the booth and flopped against Tim's side, closing his eyes and groaning. "So much sugar!"

Tim laughed and Damian snorted, reaching to examine the bill before tossing twice the amount in cash on the table. He always loved tipping as much as he felt like so someone wouldn't completely balk at it. It made other people's lives easier and it made him feel like he was doing something a little bit at a time, even as a civilian. Not as a Wayne and not as Robin.

He glanced across the street, studying the mattress shop they were headed for after this. Really, they were _supposed_ to have been there and not in here, but not one of them had been able to resist the pull of an actual ice cream parlor; they were so few and far between. Tim was small when such parlors started disappearing and both Jason and Dick tended to reminisce about such things. He smiled to himself and tapped his fingers lightly on the table, letting himself study how comfortable Jon and Tim were together. 

He'd been with Tim for almost a year now and things had been mostly smooth sailing. Sure they had their fights like anyone else – mostly in the field – but they were always quickly smoothed over. About a month ago they'd started talking about moving in together and while they were all a little disappointed to figure out the logistics just wasn't going to work until they were all willing to move to a completely new location, they had made the operative decision that both homes should be able to accommodate them all. Tim already had a king size bed in his bedroom so his had been less purchasing things and more about ensuring there were drawers available for spare clothing for each Jon and Damian. Damian and Jon had only ever had a queen bed and so, here they were, shopping for a mattress. 

It was whimsical, really, the three of them shopping for a bed they'd all use. Part of Damian's mind informed him that they were about to raise hell if word got out that the three of them were mattress shopping together. The other part of it _wanted_ that information to get out so the world would know he had two of the best men he'd ever known by his side. 

Tim's hand reached over and stilled Damian's fingers. He glanced up, finding a slightly worried look on Tim's face. 

"You okay?"

He gave him a small flash of a smile and nodded, turning his hand and holding onto Tim's. "Perfect."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jon start to reach to put his hand with theirs and then settle it back in his lap and shift to sit up straight so he wasn't leaning on Tim anymore. It was that alone that drove Damian to his decision. 

"I don't want to hide this. So what if anyone finds out. What are they going to do? Be jealous?" he nearly sneered. "Let them," he said brusquely before putting his other hand out and looking pointedly at Jon. There was a second of hesitation and then Jon's hand was in his own and Damian relaxed again, studying both of them. When no one said anything, he managed quietly, "Are you okay with the world knowing?"

Jon's fingers squeezed his own as he nodded.

"They already know my tendencies,” Tim answered, “Gotham Gazette ran a piece on it a few years ago. There was some hubbub and then no one cared after a few months. It might be big news for a bit that I'm dating a Wayne _and_ a Kent, but I think it'll pass just like everything else."

Damian squeezed their hands and then let go, pulling himself up from the booth and nodding toward the mattress store. "Then... here's to moving forward and not hiding who we are."

Jon was there in an instant, snuggled up against Damian's side, his head resting on Damian's shoulder, and then Tim's hand was on his back, lightly trailing over his muscles. It took a second for Damian to register it, but Tim's lips against his own made him sigh pleasantly and Jon's soothing hold around his waist felt like heaven. 

This was it. _This_ was how things were meant to be. Two people he cared deeply about and the world in front of them. No secrets, no lies, no pretense. Just love.


End file.
